


highway won't hold you tonight

by wreckingtomlinson



Series: dusk and summer [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, the major character death is offscreen/implied but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7075084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckingtomlinson/pseuds/wreckingtomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I-90 is nearly deserted this time of night. Good. Louis keeps driving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	highway won't hold you tonight

**Author's Note:**

> the character death is offscreen, but still major. you don't have to have read the other parts in the series (but i'd love it if you did :D) but i do suggest reading the series description cos i'm doing some weird things with this series. 
> 
> title and inspiration for this section came from [highway don't care](https://youtu.be/KmxaY_OVvWA) by tim mcgraw.

I-90 is deserted this time of night. Good. Louis keeps driving. If he drives far enough he could make it to California. Not on this highway, but he's going in the right direction. West. Go west. He needs to get out of this city before anyone knows he’s gone. 

On the seat next to him, his phone keeps lighting up with texts and calls. He sees Zayn’s name pop up at least four times. He ignores them all, reaching over to flip his phone over so he can't see the screen. He wonders if they've heard the news already, wonders if they know that he already knows. He can hear Zayn’s voice in his head: “Lou, please be careful.” Nick’s voice joins the mix: “Don't be a fucking idiot. At least try. Sometimes.” Well, he's probably being a fucking idiot.

He slams harder on the gas. The empty highway stretches on in front of him, his headlights cutting through the darkness like lonely fireflies. The speedometer climbs up. 65. 70. 75. His shoulders tense, fingers curl tighter around the wheel. He could shut off the radio, but he thinks the silence would be too much, so he lets Christina Perri sing about loving someone for a thousand years. If only he had that much time. 

He keeps driving, steady at 75. With the mental state he’s in, he definitely shouldn’t be driving. But there’s no one else on the road, so he tells himself it’s okay.

The song changes to Harry’s latest single. Louis laughs out loud, the sound bitter and too loud in the enclosed space. Do they even know? In the second he takes his eyes off the road to shut the radio off, his car swerves toward the shoulder, the front right tire dipping off the pavement, and he feels the whole car lean.

“Shit!” He jerks the wheel to the left in a panic, which thankfully doesn’t make him roll over the other side. Alright. Maybe...maybe he should go back.   
As if to affirm his thought, the car starts slowing down. “What the fuck?” He takes his foot off the gas and presses down again. Nothing. Sighing, he guides the car to the side of the road, where it rolls to a stop.

Fuck. He's out of gas. “Fucking bullshit,” he mutters, smacking the wheel before pressing his palms to his face. No, he is not going to cry. It's just that nothing's gone right in the last hour or so. It's just that he'd been jerked out of a jetlagged sleep to a phone call from Harry’s mother. It's just that he'd turned the TV on in time to see the report on TMZ. It's just that he'd seen Harry’s face, larger than life, as they talked about the empty bottles of sleeping pills and imported beer they found on his bedroom floor.

It's just that when he finally picks up his phone, he sees that he has 28 texts and 6 missed calls, all from Zayn. Well, now he's getting a call back. Louis jabs his thumb at Zayn’s number and holds it up to his ear.

“Louis!” Zayn yells. Louis winces at the loudness. “Where the hell are you? Did you get my messages?”

“I know what happened. Anne told me.” Louis tilts his head back, eyes shutting as he takes a deep breath.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Then, “Louis, I’m so sorry.”

“I am, too,” Louis mutters, mostly to himself. He should have stayed for the rest of the week. He should have spoken up. He should have, he should have, he should have. 

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck, Lou. What do you mean, you don’t know? Are you in trouble?”

Louis shakes his head before remembering that Zayn can’t see. “No. Well—I’m out of gas.”

“What road are you on?”

“I-90.”

“You’re—where the fuck were you going?” Zayn sounds so concerned that for a second Louis feels bad, but only for a second.

“I don’t know.”

There’s a bit of rustling on the other end, and then Zayn says, “I can bring you a few gallons. Let’s get you home.”

An hour later, Louis is on Zayn’s living room couch, a cup of milk in his hands and a blanket slipping off his left shoulder. He doesn’t want to talk about it, and Zayn doesn’t press him to. God bless Zayn, honestly.

He just sits next to him, the both of them quiet.

“Do you want the TV on?”

Louis shakes his head. If they turn the TV on they might be talking about Harry. He finishes the milk and tugs the blanket around his shoulders. 

“Stay over tonight.” Zayn breaks the silence again, and this time Louis gives a small nod. 

They snuggle up together, both of them in Zayn’s bed. Within minutes Louis can hear his friend’s breathing even out and knows he’s asleep. He tilts his phone screen toward him, looking at the text message he’d only seen after the phone call.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://maybetheyrefireproof.tumblr.com)


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